


Minor Miscalculation

by akelios



Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Clothed Sex, Controlled Orgasm, Dresden Files Kink Meme, Fingering, Gags, Incest, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-09
Updated: 2011-04-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 23:17:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/436526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akelios/pseuds/akelios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They'd been gone for half an hour. Far too long to be getting towels or whatever excuse it was that they had given. When Thomas emerged from the back, he was smiling. It was the only sign that something other than accounting had been going on back there. Not a single hair was out of place, his clothes as neat as always.</p><p>Harry, who followed five minutes later, was a different story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Minor Miscalculation

**Author's Note:**

> There is use of the White Court's whammy in this fic, but it's being used consensually, strange as that may sound.

“Who's the new dogsbody?” Emelda turned to me, her too tight face trying for an expression of curiosity and failing, likely because the cut rate plastic surgeon she'd gone to had zipped her skin up so that she had only the one expression, and that one looked like she'd just taken a good whiff of her yappy little dogs poo.

“You mean tall dark and awkward?” DeeDee leaned out from behind the low wall separating the coffee shop/waiting room, her hair twisted into little curls of aluminum while she waited for the bleach to do its work. We all three looked down to the cafe, where the man in question was waiting tables. He wasn't bad at it, in spite of DeeDee calling him awkward. It was just that there was so very much of him, all angles and he looked like he'd knock over one of the froofy little tables if he sneezed too strongly.

“Don't you know?” I pulled smile number 151: tiny curl of one corner, eyes down, but scrunched up a little. It showed off the fact that I didn't have any wrinkles, and it made my eyes glitter mischievously. As though I knew a dear secret that I shouldn't share, but that I would. DeeDee and Emelda both looked at me, their faces resembling wolves scenting blood. Our kind lived on secrets and intrigue.

“Well?” Emelda, always the more impatient one.

“My dear, sweet Em! _That_ is the boyfriend. His name is Harry, and he's a private investigator.” The two put on identical expressions of surprise and then let them flow into knowing interest. 

“Oh, oh my. Well, he's certainly...rough looking.” DeeDee was looking at him now with what she clearly thought was well bred shock. “And our dear Tommy is so gentle. I wonder how that man convinced Tommy to slum with him?”

“Maybe he likes that sort of thing. Rough.” Emelda was likely trying to waggle her eyebrows in a suggestive manner, but there was no movement at all in the forehead region. “In bed.” She added, when neither of us said anything to her.

“Yes, yes. We get it, Em.” I crossed my legs, displaying my new diamond anklet and sat back, putting out my best regal air. I was about to say something both wise and cutting, putting both of them gently in their places while making my own very clear when there was a flutter of movement from the back and Thomas himself appeared.

He was escorting that whiny bitch Cindy to the cash register. She looked beautiful, her skin glowing and a deep, languid smile on her face. Damn her eyes. She was one of the ones who didn't honor the Agreement. She monopolized Thomas far too often. I made a mental note to arrange for a 'talk' with her. This couldn't be allowed to stand.

Thomas whispered something in Cindy's ear and she tittered, her laugh grating and tinkling like broken glass on tile. But I watched his eyes, and I could see them track immediately to where Harry was, over behind the counter. The man was running his hands through his hair, muttering inaudibly and frowning at the espresso machine. I admit the thing did look like it could perform major surgery without any assistance, but he had such a hard time with it you almost felt bad for him. Emelda and DeeDee were talking and I tuned them out. Thomas handed Cindy over to Augusta – he never handled the dirty, money portion of the work. After all, he was an artist. He could hardly be expected to lower himself to our grubby level. It was good that so many of us understood him and his artistic temperament.

Once Cindy was out of his hair, he glided over to Harry, coming right up into the taller man's space. Thomas' hand pressed against the small of Harry's back, his fingers rubbing gently, dipping every so often below the waist band of his blue jeans. Harry stiffened at first, but then Thomas leaned into him, clearly saying something and the man relaxed. They leaned over the machine together, Thomas deftly pushing a button here and there and a minute later it was hissing and producing cups of liquid delight, filling the shop with a mouth watering scent. 

Harry laughed and stepped away from the machine, from Thomas. Thomas frowned and followed him, pining him in a far corner. Thomas reached up and ran his hand through Harry's hair, smoothing it down. The sounds in the shop retreated as I watched, and I heard, vaguely, Emelda and DeeDee finally shut up as they caught sight of what was going on. 

A blush colored Harry's sharp cheeks and his hands came up, one pressing against Thomas' shoulder, the other against his hip, long fingers curling around Thomas' side, pale and elegant against the blue silk. Thomas shook his head and the hand that had been smoothing Harry's hair back was suddenly curled against the back of his head, his neck, holding him still as Thomas rose up on the balls of his feet, dragging Harry down into a kiss. 

The man was clearly uncomfortable with PDA's, mores the pity. He spluttered, his face going bright crimson very quickly. And then something changed. His posture relaxed, the flush fading from his face, spreading down into his throat, the little hint of collar bone we could see in the neck of his t-shirt. Harry melted into the kiss, hands no longer trying to push Thomas away, but pull him in closer. I shifted in my seat, growing uncomfortable in the best possible way and took a quiet, deep breath. It was like I could _taste_ the pheromones they were putting out.

When Thomas pulled away, Harry's eyes were heavy and dark. His lips were swollen and I didn't doubt that he was trying to think of a way to get Thomas alone for ten minutes. Five, if they hurried. But Thomas stepped away, coming toward me. In a painful little bit of fate, it was my appointment that interrupted them. I smiled, number 18: friendly but not overly so, if a little shakily, and rose. Damn. I was going to have to cancel all my appointments for the day and find an excuse to hang around in the coffee shop. Those two looked like they were going to explode, and I was not going to have to hear about it through the rumor mill.

~

I leaned over the table, wiping it down with a wet cloth as I picked up the napkins and the little plates. A trickle of cold, delicious energy wound around me and that gave me a split second of warning before a warm, hard body brushed against mine. Thomas leaned into me, heat soaking into me through our clothes even as his aura wrapped around me, cool and enticing. That was the danger of playing with Thomas like this. I had to fight the urge to let it go too far, to let it stop being a game.

He'd been touching me all day, things that should have been innocent, on their own. But throw them all together, add up the kisses and the caresses, the spine twisting thrill of the danger of it all combined with the love that Thomas and I felt for one another and it was painfully arousing. Thomas had to know by now what he was doing to me. It had been a mistake, agreeing to help out in the shop. Thomas was going to know how I really felt about him. Hell, everyone else in the place did. Half the women who'd had appointments that morning were still hanging around in the coffee shop and it was three in the afternoon. They were all watching us, their eyes eager, their lips wrapping around their coffees and their words. 

Surprisingly, that didn't embarrass me as much as I'd have thought it would. I knew they were imaging Thomas and I together, that they were picturing my brother and I having _sex_ , and all it did was add a little spice to the pleasure that had been building up in me, the desire and anticipation. Thomas pressed up against me and I lost my grip on my rag. He was hard. His aura dug into me, like tiny little fingers and I closed my eyes. There was a questioning sound from Thomas and an arm was suddenly around my waist, immovable as a steel bar. His hand cupped me through my jeans, warm and hard, but not hard enough. I ground my hips forward, just a little, enough that he couldn't miss my own erection.

Thomas jerked his hand away and his aura retreated until it was just a faint brush where he touched me, his chest against my back. His head pressed against my shoulder and I could feel him breathing, trying to bring himself under control.

“Sorry. Sorry. Gimmie a second and I'll let go. Shouldn't have played it so close. A little too much.” He started to pull away and I grabbed his wrist, holding him still. “Harry?”

“Don't. Don't pull away, Thomas. It's not you, it's- I'm sorry. It's my fault.” I couldn't let him go away thinking that he was corrupting me or something. This was all me. I'd found Thomas attractive before I'd found out we were related. Finding out he was my brother hadn't changed that. It had just made it worse. Living with him had been hell. His family, the Raiths, were fucked up enough. How could I tell him I was attracted to him? That him being family, being blood, only made me want him more?

“Really?” His voice rumbled against the side of my throat, his lips brushing my skin. I sighed, feeling the soft brush go straight through me to my dick. It leapt in my pants and I moaned. There was a murmuring sound in the room and I ignored it. Thomas pulled away and I stood up, faced him. “I'm going to need some more towels. I'll be in the closet. You know, the big one?” Our eyes met, and I felt a pulse of...of surprise and simple happiness. I nodded at him and he walked away. I scooped up the plates and stumbled over to the sink, dumping everything in and then standing there, staring into the soapy water. I really hoped I wasn't misunderstanding what Thomas meant or I'd be ruining my only family.

The closet was towards the back of the salon, around a corner and out of the way. No one would be coming back there. I took a quick, surreptitious look around as I rounded the corner. All eyes were busy on other things. The door was mostly closed, but I pushed it open. The closet was dark and it smelled faintly of clean cotton. 

“Thomas?” I couldn't see him. The door clicked shut behind me, locking and I started to turn. A broad hand caught me, pulled me around and pressed me back into the shelves. Thomas' mouth was on mine in a second, liquid heat that cut through me, drove away the last few tendrils of doubt. I caught his head in my hands, the long, silky curls tangling around my fingers as I tugged on them.

I'd been imagining this kiss for years, watching him bring woman after woman to the apartment, watching him with Justine, seeing the care and affection that he had for her. I wanted that. Wanted that from him and I had never thought that I could have it. But here it was, and I took it, rolled myself in it. I gave Thomas everything that I could, tried to show him what I felt with just that simple touch, lip against lip, our tongues exploring one another. 

We separated and he dove for my throat, teeth sinking in, bruising. I grunted, a shiver of fear that quickly vanished in the rush of pleasure. I hadn't realized that my throat was a hot spot, but as he released me, running his tongue over the faint indentations left from his teeth I groaned, the sound echoing loudly in the small space. My head thunked back into one of the shelves and I saw stars for a second. When the lights cleared, Thomas had shifted us to the tiny back wall, the only one without shelving.

“If you can't be quiet, this'll have to wait for after work. _Hours_ , Harry. Hours of waiting for me back at my apartment. Alone.” His lips found my ear, and then his teeth. I dug my fingers into his arm and bit the inside of my cheek so I wouldn't let out another loud moan. “Waiting for me, hard, unable to touch yourself. Because I wouldn't let you jerk off, Harry. I'd expect you to have more control than that. You get to come with me, and only with me. Okay?” He pulled back, and even in the near lightlessness I could see his eyes. They were glowing, slightly, a glittering gray sheen and his skin was giving off a little bit of light.

I nodded.

“I need to hear you say it, Harry. Tell me this is okay. Tell me that you want to do this with me. This way. My way. Or I have to stop. I won't hurt you.”

“Okay. Okay. Stars and stones, Thomas, your call. Please. Please.” My hands found his hips and I pulled him in tighter to me, our erections brushing against one another through the cloth. It had been a long time, and the feeling that shot up my spine was too much. I gasped, groaned loudly again, the sound cut off abruptly as Thomas slapped a hand over my mouth. I shook my head experimentally, trying to dislodge the grip. He pressed harder, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make the point. I drew a ragged breath in through my nose, the scent of him coming to me, wrapping through my brain. 

I bared my teeth against his palm, biting at the soft flesh. He laughed in my ear, his other hand fumbling at my belt, my fly. 

“I told you you had to be quiet. But-” He got my pants open, the fabric parting with a sigh, the release of pressure, the cold air raising goose pimples on my thighs. Thomas grasped me through the thin fabric of my underwear, his hand jacking me slowly, the soft fabric pulling against my skin. “I don't think I can stop right now either. So we'll have to improvise.” 

The hand over my mouth moved, finger pressing against my lips. I opened and he slid two fingers inside.

“Suck.” My body clenched, the image, the order, shooting through me for some insane reason like nothing had in years, and I felt the orgasm that had been building all day rise. I clamped my lips down around Thomas' fingers, my hands gripping his wrist, and sucked, running my tongue over the fine ripples of his skin, learning the feel of him. My mind started to melt down my spine, in preparation for shooting out of my dick and fingers clamped down at the base of my cock, squeezing tightly. My teeth sank into Thomas' fingers as my orgasm ran into the brick wall of that vise. I whimpered, tried to pull my head away from Thomas, but he followed and there wasn't really anywhere to go. “Give it a minute, Harry. It'll be so much better if you just wait.” I felt his aura come back, that cold that didn't hurt like it should. It was a faint touch, just enough that everything started to feel fantastic, like the one time I'd accidentally added pot to one of my potions. I ran my tongue between his fingers in response, pressing the tip against the tip of the 'v' between the digits. “Good boy.”

His hand left my dick, yanking at my underwear until they tore. The brush of rough cotton fabric, one of the hand towels, against my cheek felt insanely good. I understood why the White Court vampires were so successful. This was just the barest hint of what they could do, and it was already the best sex I'd ever had, and no one had fucking come yet. Thomas curled his fingers into my tongue, pressing it down gently before he started to withdraw them. I gave his fingers another suck, hard as I could, my cheeks hollowing out with the force of it. He moaned against my shoulder blade, trailing slick fingers across my cheek as he slid the small towel into my mouth. I bit down on it without having to be told. 

“Turn around.” I shuffled around until my forehead was against the faintly warm concrete. One blunt, spit slick finger circled my hole, and I tensed, unable to help myself. “Have you done this before, Harry?” I shook my head no. “Okay. Do you _want_ me to- we could do something else?” I shook my head no again. I wanted this. I wanted Thomas inside of me. We could do this, somehow. Right now. “Got it. Just...just go with it, okay? I swear I won't hurt you.” I nodded and all of a sudden his aura rushed over me, every nerve ending sparking into fire, perfect. 

Thomas kept one hand on my back, but I could feel him moving around, the click of somethings cap making me jump, a little. Not in fear, but just because the sound was so sharp when everything seemed like it should be soft, should be something I could roll inside of. When his finger came back, it was coated in something far thicker than spit. He pressed inside of me, and it felt good, my teeth digging into the towel, the taste of it filling my mouth, my nose. I was alert, tingling all over, and yet my body felt relaxed at the same time, allowing Thomas to press his finger in and out, twisting it inside of me until the faintly full sensation faded.

The second finger went in smooth as silk, pleasure radiating out from it. It felt like only a few seconds until I was trying to speed Thomas up, trying to force him to go at my pace. I wanted to come, but I wanted Thomas inside of me when I did. It just seemed right, for the two of us to be together like this, like that. Three fingers, and Thomas had to take me in hand again, holding me back from coming all over the wall. 

When he pulled his fingers from me I felt terribly empty. It didn't last long.

I'd seen Thomas' cock before. It was thick, and perfect as the rest of him. Beautiful. I could picture it as it pressed against me, the head smooth and rounded like a plum, slick and throbbing as it pierced me. It tore a shout from me, muffled by the improvised gag, as he pressed forward, breaching me. I'd thought the feeling of my brothers fingers inside of me had been heaven. I'd been wrong. This, the slow, careful incursion of his dick into me, where no one had ever touched me before, this was heaven.

All I could see was the rough wall, my eyes rolling as Thomas slid home after what felt like forever. His balls brushed against mine, and they tensed, clenching up. I wanted to come, I wanted to come so badly. I was certain that if Thomas didn't fuck me, if he didn't give me what I needed that I was going to die from the fire storm building inside of me.

I screamed out against the towel, 'please', and Thomas pulled out, sliding back in a little faster, then again and again, building up strength and speed as my muscles loosened, let him do it without hurting us both. My hands scraped against the wall, the skin tearing in a million little places and the faint scent of copper hit me. Thomas' aura pulled on me, drove my emotions higher and higher until all I could feel was the pleasure, the only thought I could hold was that I wanted more, more intensity, more love. And Thomas was the only one who could give it to me.

“Come with me.” His voice was rough and still the best thing I'd ever heard. My brother took his hand off my cock with a final, teasing brush of fingers and dug his fingers into my hips, his nails cutting into my skin in tantalizing explosions of pain. His hips slammed into me once more and I felt him explode inside of me, thick fluid coating me, joining us together. My mind still echoing with the sound of his voice, I followed. 

~

They'd been gone for half an hour. Far too long to be getting towels or whatever excuse it was that they had given. When Thomas emerged from the back, he was smiling. It was the only sign that something other than accounting had been going on back there. Not a single hair was out of place, his clothes as neat as always.

Harry, who followed five minutes later, was a different story. His forehead was very lightly scraped, nothing worse than a minor sunburn, but still very obvious. He'd clearly tried to wash up, the neck of his shirt was splattered with water, his hair damp with it. The ring of bruises on the side of his throat was very attractive, actually, and of course there was nothing to be done about that. The man nodded to Cerisse behind the counter and Thomas gave him a little wave, saying he'd see him at the apartment. Harry walked out, stiff and satisfied at the same time. Something white fluttered to the ground behind him as he went out the door. 

As soon as he was gone I rose, my cellphone already in hand. I needed to get a jump start on the others, or I'd be second and thirding their information. That was the way to lose my position at the head of the gossip tree. On the way out the door I bent down and picked up the piece of white cloth. 

A small, true smile creased my face as I rolled the bit of fabric between my fingers. Thomas caught my eye through the front window and I held my hand up, the shredded piece of underwear pinched between my fingers as I gave him a salute. He smiled, radiating happiness, and gave me a small, courtly bow.


End file.
